The Obsession - Joker Fanfiction

•Chapter 4•

The bright colors of the sunshine slowly peaked through the curtains of your window, next to the bed you fell asleep on after the storm that happened for hours during the night. Your eyes slowly opened up, only for it to squint, adjusting to the light that burned your eyes a bit. You turned your head, Joker was no where in sight, beside you was a note.

'I left a bit early, gotta do some serious shit business. Food is left on the table for you for when you are hungry, in honor for letting me spend the night. See you soon. -Mr.J'

It was about 7am, my stomach was filled with delight, from the meal my friend had left behind. I jogged up the stairs and begun to dress up for school, putting on a some dark jeans, red converse, and a red button up, along with my black leather jacket. I shoved a few books inside my bag, and taking my phone with me, though the battery was drained and had particular no use for it. Carefully, I exited the household, and started walking. By the time I got to class, I found myself drawing The Joker's tattoos. "Whatcha got there?" Said a guy as I quickly slammed my notebook shut. "Nothing...nothing at all." I responded, and received a strange look among their face. I sighed, knowing this was gonna be a long day.

-=•+•=-

The bell rung as I gathered up the paperwork, sliding it neatly into my binder as I had put it away in my backpack, closing it up and slipping its straps around me, darting out the door. Before I left campus, I had bought myself a can of grape soda from the vending machine that stood next to the deans office on the bottom floor. My footsteps trailed down the sidewalk and into the grassy fields, clicking the cap open as I took a sip of the fizzed beverage as it sizzled into my mouth, before swallowing it. Once I got to the crossing streets, I saw Joker's Vaydor parked into the driveway as I smiled to myself. He's back. I proceeded to walk across the street, and stepped up onto the front porch, pulling out my keys as I jabbed it into the lock and turned it, opening it and pushing the door open. There, laid the man himself in the couch. He had his guns and knives placed neatly on the table, his phone beside the weapon, his eyes were closed his arms were folded across his chest, asleep peacefully. I bent down to untie my shoes, putting it aside the door as I stood back up. Smiling of how adorable he looks while sleeping, more adorable than me, knowing I probably look like a potato sleeping, I decided to let him rest as I walked up the stairs to my room. The house was quiet, except for small snores and clocks ticking, it felt kinda nice, but also strange. I roughly tossed my bag aside and sat close to my desk, pulling homework from my Theatre, math, English, biology, and other classes; out and onto my desk. I picked up my pencil and started working on each of he sheets. 3 hours later, I had finished it, I took out the notebook that had the tattoos in it, and started finishing up the artwork, before feeling drained out as my head lowered, falling asleep with the notebook opened.
When I awoke, I found my bag nearly zipped up, my body was tucked in bed and the notebook was gone. "What the, shits?" My voice cursed under my breath. I quickly got up and looked everywhere, moving to the stairs, I stared down to see the notebook in Mr.J's hands as I can see him examine the drawings. His head turned back once he felt my presence around him as he motioned me over. I slowly stepped down the stairs and over to him, my hands were inside my pockets.
"You...you drew this?" His voice was low, but in shocked, I nodded quietly, unsure of what to say to him.
"This is, this is wonderful. Such detail, how'd you know every single one of my tattoos from the front side of my body?" His head tilted up at me, I didn't even know he had a backside.
"The pictures just popped up inside of my head, I guess in my dream, your shirt was open, and I guess I took a glimpse of it." I spoke slowly.
"Darling~" he begun. "That wasn't a dream, I did wake up with my shirt open." He chuckled. "WAIT WHAT~?!!! oh shit oh shit oh shit I am fucking sorry, I did not know! I swear I wasn't trying to go at you~ I don't even know how to work on a shirt like that in my sleep?!!" I panicked hard, my cheeks were a tinted red of embarrassment. He gave one last silly laugh.
"It's okay, I know you didn't mean it. We all have weird things we do in our sleep, for instance, I sometimes count out loud in my sleep." He admitted. He closed the notebook and smiled at me, handing it over as I took it gently, his hands collided with the other as he stared up at me. "It's only a Thursday night, wanna have a little fun trip with me? I can show you my toys." He spoke as I started giggling of how wrong that sounded. He shook his head. "You know, you're very naughty little child." He laughed with me. "I know! But high school life, things get to your innocence." I smiled. "But show me your toys anyway!"
He nodded as he took my hand and we headed out to the car. He opened the door for me as I got in, making sure I was buckled up before he closed the door and got into the driver's seat. He turned on the engine, and went full on speed to his house. Both of us stepped out, as he lead me to the basement, flipping the switch on as the lights revealed different types of guns, and including knives.
"I'm gonna show you, how to fight with these." He begun. "Pick up a gun, any one you would like." His voice was deep, and dark; I had picked up a multi-colored gun that had small gold carvings. "Shoot the target." My hands were shaking, I had never used a gun or held one this close to me. His figure moved behind me as his hands were placed on mines, transferring heat as he calmly helped me positioned the gun at the target. Pull the trigger, Sylvia. Those words floated in my head. Slowly, he let go of me and backed a few feet away to spectate as my fingers pulled the trigger, the bullet piercing through the center of the body. He smiled at my first try. We spent an hour working with guns before he told about the knives, on how we can use it in combat, like stabbing people, cutting off body parts, etc. "Okay, now. I want you to PRETEND that we are fighting. Throw a punch at me." He spoke.
"My hand is most likely going to break, but alright, if you say so~" I spoke as my fist clenched up, and with all my force I swung at him, hitting em' in the side of his jaw.
"Ah~ oh my god!" He clutched his face, before he wriggled his jaw and have it tighten up again.
"Jesus Christ I'm sorry! I didn't mean to go that hard!!!" My hand was over my mouth, feeling guilty. His hand rose up, and told me not to be sorry, and that I had done good. "Let's go celebrate, for all your hard work." His voice was confident and strong, as we walked to the kitchen, drinking Tequila, getting drunk by nightfall. He knew how to control himself, while I was just flat out drunk but knew my emotions and all. For some reason, his hand looked pretty. He brought his fingers up to his hair to comb through, as I pouted. "lEt Me ToUcH iT~~~~~~" I slurred as he brought his hand down in confusion, keeping quiet as I played with his hand, making his chuckle and crack a smile. My fingers lingered around his knuckles and onto his fingers, feeling his cold hand while he brought the tip of the glass up to his lips, the strong scent going through his mouth as he put the empty cup down. "Nap time for you." He spoke as he took care of me in the bathroom, cleaning myself up as he carried me to the bed and watched me fall asleep in his arms.

But even with my drunk self, I could feel myself attach to him. I don't know what it was that made me feel like this. Maybe it was his green hair, blue eyes, red lips and silver teeth, pale skin and tattoos. Maybe it's how he is, being a sweet person but also a badass. I had watched him torture people, shooting people in the head; doing serious business in his club. His 'Ha! Ha! Haaaa!' laugh is like, pure soothing inside my ears, his fancy clothing he wears. On how he was the only one to treat me good. It was nice, but also terrifying to think about. I don't know why or how, but I think I have a small obsession with a wanted clown's presence around me. And my thoughts are final for now.